


Knit Happens

by MyCupOfTea



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 3+1 Things, Knitting, M/M, canon typical mentions of anxiety, let Jack Zimmermann have healthy coping methods 2k16
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 18:28:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8725525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyCupOfTea/pseuds/MyCupOfTea
Summary: Or, "Three Times Jack Knitted For Bitty and One Time He Didn't".





	

**Author's Note:**

> I blame Google for the pun.

I. 

At about four in the afternoon on Bitty’s second day back in Providence, Jack walks into the apartment, stands in front of him with something in his hands, and says:

“I made you a scarf.”

It’s said in the same way “I’ll text you” had been said, the same way “Will you be my boyfriend?” was asked: a declaration made with underlying nervousness, but a declaration nonetheless.

Bitty is confused, mostly because it’s June. But his boyfriend is standing in front of him holding a scarf that he made, and, well, worse things have happened.

“You made me a scarf?” Bitty still has to ask, but instead of just being surprised it comes out a little bit love-struck. He’s in love. He’s allowed.

“I. Yeah. It’s, um. Samwell colors.”

It is, in fact, Samwell colors. It’s burgundy. It has white raised stripes. It has tasteful fringe.

Bitty is so confused.

"Wow. Um. Can I -" He reaches out a hand. Jack startles.

"Oh yeah, yeah, here."

It's soft. Really soft. Bitty runs his hands over it.

"When did you have time to make a scarf?" Bitty asks. He can't stop touching it, how soft it is. Jack is still blocking the TV.

"You were in Georgia and? I missed you," Jack says, and Bitty can't stand the look on his face anymore, and has to stand up and kiss him.

 

II.

Jack helps him move back into the Haus in August, and they already have plans to see each other in a week and a half, but it feels impossible to let go from where they're wrapped around each other in the front hallway.

Bitty has gotten used to having Jack in his space, leaning on the kitchen counters and sprawling across the couch, just a few words and steps away. They lived together at the Haus, now they've lived to together in Providence, and moving back into the Haus feels a little bit like moving backwards, in a bad way.

"I'm gonna miss you," he says instead, mumbling it into Jack's shoulder.

"Me too, Bits. Fuck, I'm going to miss you. But I'll see you soon." Even so, Jack buries his face a little further into the crook of Bitty's neck.

They sway together, reluctant to let go, until Jack startles suddenly.

"Oh, oh, I almost forgot," he says, rummaging through his bag. "I have something for you. . . it's around here - got it -"

Bitty has a beanie in his hands. It's - It -

"It matches my scarf," Bitty says, slightly breathless.

"Yeah, I - baseball hats aren't very warm," Jack manages to get out.

"Thank you," Bitty says, and like that the beanie is gone out of his hands and on his head. "Jack! It's a little warm for that, I think!" but he's laughing.

"I've got to go," Jack says, and it feels better than it did five minutes ago.

"Okay," Bitty says, smiling softly. "Drive safe."

"I will, promise."

Jack turns to leave before swinging back around, pulling Bitty into him and kissing the breath out of him.

"I'll text you when I get home," he promises, and leaves Bitty standing in the entryway, dazed and stroking the pompom on top of the hat still on his head.

 

III.

They don't spend Christmas together, because Bitty's parents want him to spend one more Christmas with them in Georgia before he moves to Providence after graduation. But they spend a few days together after Bitty's finals are over, and they exchange gifts the night before Jack drives Bitty to the airport.

Jack is an impossible person to shop for, because what do you get someone who has an NHL salary? But Jack had been in this apartment for a year and a half and there still wasn't a single photograph on the walls. There was some art and whatnot - it wasn't completely bereft of decoration - but no photographs, and Bitty had found it odd.

("But all I really want to put up is pictures of us," Jack had confessed. "And I can't do that until I come to the team - yours and mine. People drop by all the time.")

But they were out to the teams now, and working with George on a plan to come out, once and for all, so he thought it was safe if he went ahead and printed some pictures.

When Jack opens the framed pictures, his face goes soft and he smiles and - Bitty loves that look.

"I can put these up now," Jack breathes out softly, like he's reminding himself, and sets them aside gently to kiss Bitty softly. "Thank you."

He nudges a package towards Bitty. Bitty opens it carefully.

"Oh wow," he breathes out.

"It's - I remembered you saying how the cold weather makes you miss Georgia and I noticed - the last time I was there I saw your mom had all those knitted dishtowels and pot holders and things so I -"

Bitty is in his lap, holding him tight, before he finishes the sentence.

"Thank you," he murmurs into Jack's shoulder, and Jack pulls him closer.

Later, they're sliding into bed and Bitty realizes something.

"I've never seen you knit."

"Really?" Jack says, slightly surprised, before sighing. "No, I guess you wouldn't have. I didn't, at the Haus. And now - I learned how when I was in rehab."

He's quiet for a beat before he goes on.

"I learned it as part of a class thing. We had to pick something and it seemed okay. A lot of the things they tell you to do to manage anxiety seem so pointless - and I get that if they help, they're not pointless, but sometimes when I can't stop my brain they seem pointless. But - this way I make something and it's usually a useful thing, like a scarf to keep you warm."

"That makes sense."

Jack snorts.

"Not really. But I don't - when you're here - you help, and I usually don't need to knit. I'm not saying you make everything perfect or anything - I love you but that's not going to cure my anxiety -but you help me stay reasonable and I have other coping methods. But when you're not here, I knit. It's repetitive and fairly mind numbing and all in the hands and sometimes that's just what I need."

Jack falls silent.

"So you knit when I'm not here?"

"Well, when you were moving back into the Haus I was having trouble sleeping for a few nights and I made your hat."

"And you only knit when you're feeling anxious?"

"Eh, sort of?" Jack shrugs. "I usually cast on a project when I'm not feeling much at all. I make the most progress when I'm having a hard time, but it's hard to start something when I get like that."

Bitty settles into the crook of his arm and Jack reaches out and flips off the light. He's just about drifted off when Bitty talks again.

"Jack, can I ask you something?"

"'course," Jack mumbles, half awake.

"Are you. . . you're not embarrassed, are you?"

Jack might not be awake enough for this conversation, because he's pretty sure he's missed something.

"About what?" he manages to get out.

"About -- um. Knitting."

"No?" Jack says, thinking he's still missing a vital part of this conversation. "Not really. Sometimes, maybe. But only when I'm already worried about something else."

"I just. . . want you to be able to do whatever you need to do to be okay. When I'm here and when I'm not here."

"Mm." Jack gets it, kind of. "Bits, for the most part, I'm pretty good at doing what I need to manage. Whatever I don't do, has nothing to do with you, and a lot to do with anxiety." Jack pauses. "Did anything I just say make sense?"

"Yeah. Mostly."

"Oh good," Jack says, feeling sleep creep closer. "Mm, good night."

He hears Bitty's soft laugh and a quick "good night, honey" before he finally drifts off.

 

+I.

It's spring break, and Samwell is in the throes of fighting for a playoff spot. While Bitty doesn't have classes, he does have extra practice, and can't get away to Providence.

It's fine. It just means that Jack drives down instead.

Samwell is trying not to let winter go, and there's still patches of snow here and there. Jack relishes the crispness of the air and the nostalgia of taking a morning run around campus, but by the time he walks into the Haus, he's glad for the rush of warmth that hits him.

Morning practice must have ended, because Bitty was in the kitchen and he can hear both showers running.

"You'll have to wait for the shower," Bitty says, idly flipping a pancake. "Breakfast?"

"Mm, yes please," Jack says, kissing Bitty on the cheek as he walks to the fridge for water.

"Sweetheart, you're freezing - oh! Here, make sure this doesn't burn." Bitty hands him a spatula and points at the pan.

Jack is slightly panicked the way he always is when Bitty thrusts a cooking utensil at him and tell him not to burn anything, but it doesn't take Bitty long to come back down holding something lumpy. Bitty slides the pancake one handed onto a plate already filled with pancakes before turning suddenly and attacking Jack with something warm and made of wool.

Jack splutters until Bitty backs away, beaming.

"It's a scarf!"

It is. It's very lumpy, but very warm, and very soft, and -

"I didn't know you could knit," Jack says, thinking he's doing a very bad job of keeping the delighted surprise out of his voice.

"I can't. Or, well, I couldn't, but I was out shopping a while ago and I passed by a store that was having a free class and I love whenever you make me something so I wanted to make you something, so I learned."

"Thank you, I. . . thank you."

Bitty smiles wider, before hauling Jack down by the scarf to kiss him.

"That's a fine!" Nursey, who has gleefully taken over primary fining duties, calls from the doorway.

Jack, without breaking away, fishes his wallet out of his pocket and tosses it on the table.


End file.
